


beating the broken heart

by summoner_yuna_of_besaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Issues Relating to Homosexuality, LGBT Themes, M/M, Self-Harm, Sexual Repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoner_yuna_of_besaid/pseuds/summoner_yuna_of_besaid
Summary: Sirius explains to Harry the truth of the last twenty years, and why he should never be forgiven for what he's done.Luckily for him, his friends don't feel the same way.----I found this in a high school diary from nearly a decade ago, and I thought it was a rather somber and heartfelt depiction of my own coming to terms with my sexuality, so I wanted to post it here.





	beating the broken heart

In my life, I have plenty of things to regret.  I’ve never been one to look before I leap, and I can’t easily bring myself to apologize, even when I know I'm at fault.  My damnable pride gets in the way, what's left of it at least. Twelve years in Azkaban tends to tear at self esteem - and every other emotion for that matter.

As I’ve said, there are dozens of mistakes I’ve made, plenty of things I hate about myself, but I loathe nothing more than the mistake I keep making every day - the pain that wounds me deeper than any curse or spell - a choice I made when I was just a boy, that haunts me still.  I’m not known for being subtle either so I’ll be blunt at this point.

I love him so desperately, so futilely, and so deeply; and he will always hate me.

You don’t seem so surprised.  Am I that obvious? God I hope not.  What’s left of my sanity depends on him never knowing.  This can’t leave the room, please understand.

Well… I’m sure you want an explanation.  Your father and I, we were already friends by then, and when we boarded the train together for the first time, there he was, with your mother.  All our fates were sealed by that moment. Your father was taken with her from the moment their eyes met, but I didn’t see her. I didn’t even realize she was there.

He was tall, and pale as snow, but his hair was so dark in comparison, blacker than my name.  I remember wondering if his skin was smooth to touch, because it looked like it would be.

Now, I didn’t feel all those things the first day, for Merlin’s sake, I was only eleven - but the seed was there, and it never stopped growing.  Both James and I had found our soul mates - whether any of us knew it or not, whether it was reciprocated or not.

James, a jealous and proud young man in his youth, I'll admit, noticed the familiarity between Lily and Snape, and immediately he deemed Snape the enemy.   In my mind too - my stupid, ignorant mind - Snape became my enemy.  For one, James hated him, so by rights I had to hate him too. Then there were the... feelings... something I didn't want to face.  Something I lived in denial of for years.  Snape was a threat because of how he made me feel.  If anyone knew - I was terrified to be found out, especially as that feeling grew stronger over time.

In my eyes I saw my friends abandoning me - Snape and the Slytherins laughing at me - society and my family hating me more than before.  They might have even killed me, now that I think about it.

So when James opened his big mouth and threw the first punch in what would be a long rivalry, I laughed along.  I complied. I listened to James insult all the features I adored, the attributes I would worship. The lies spread forth so much easier than they should have.  Over time, I grew better with practice. Everyone was convinced that I hated Severus Snape despite how far from the truth it was.

But I could never delude myself.  I can’t describe how much it hurt to see his face scrunch up and grimace in absolute rage at the sight of me.  It wasn’t hard to feign anger back - but I was never angry at him. It was directed at myself.

I couldn’t even avoid him, or stand up for him.  If James targeted him, I had to back him up, I had to join in.  I couldn’t dare risk anyone putting the pieces together.

Years passed and nothing changed - merely intensified.  The hatred grew, and my pain and my … my attraction, too.

Gods, he was brilliant.  There was hardly a thing he could not master given time.  But potions, of course, was where he really shined. I loved to watch him work.  Half my potions failed because I was too busy trying to watch him. Actually, once I almost blew my secret when I became enraged at James for ruining one of Snape’s works.  We fought for days - Remus managed to bring us to peace. I convinced James that it was foolish to mess with volatile potions, which could so easily go wrong, not because I cared for Snape of course, but because Lily was right next to him.  He fell for it.  

It never got any easier.  I just got used to it. Though after Remus revealed his big secret, I… I told him mine.  I trusted Remus - still trust him - more than anyone else. He accepted me, and I him, and from then on we were closer than ever, if possible.  Of course, he’s always been the smartest of us. He figured out what I was on his own. Never told a soul, as far as I know.  He's - he's a good man.

Somehow, while I was pretending, I became bitter and angry, and meaner, more like the persona I put on.  My feelings for Severus had not faltered - my hatred for myself had grown.  Hatred for my family, for the situation I was in, for the grotesque mask I wore where I mocked things I loved and pretended to love things that meant nothing to me.  

You know the story I am sure.  My worst moment - more disgraceful than my record or boyish pranks.  When Snape came to me, spouting accusations about Remus, all true of course.

Snape will tell you how selfish and cruel I was - I am.  He’s right - I’m a Black to the core, I'm heartless. But when I directed Snape to the Whomping Willow, I wasn’t... - I was trying to escape him.  To send him off so I wouldn't be in so much pain anymore, to get rid of him - not to kill him, but frighten him.  And if a sight of Remus scared him away from the Marauders, then maybe finally it wouldn't hurt anymore.

Only after I left did I realize what I’d done - what could happen - and my heart almost stopped.  Remus - Severus - the people I cared so dearly about, and I’d just sent them to their deaths.

I spun and raced after to stop him, but I didn’t.  I knew I would be useless. No one, let alone Severus Snape, would believe I meant to spare him.  My options were limited and I knew I had to work fast so I did the one thing I knew would work. I continued playing my role.  The soulless Black, bragging to James about what I’d done. I knew he’d do the right thing - everyone always knew he had a bit of a good guy streak in him, under all that bluster and pride.  Especially Lily. She brought out the best in him.

Back to point… Severus and Remus were saved from each other.  James was the hero, and I was painted blacker then, my name soured to all who knew, friends, teachers, Snape.  The latter hurt worst, more than the rest combined.

Do you see these?  Have you seen them before?  Everyone always assumes they came from Azkaban, from some fit of madness.  No.  No, I... it started that night. That night I took a slicing charm to my arm. All I could see was what had almost happened, what I could have done.  The blood on my hands.  What an awful person I'd become.

My family - the secrets I kept - my fear and self loathing were tearing me apart.

Not long after I ran away from home, and took up with your father.  The look on his face… I collapsed on his doorstep, and when I woke up in bed, warm and taken care of, with his concerned face leaning over mine, it slipped out.  He grinned and laughed so hard - pissed me off. Apparently he’d known for a while, and had been wondering when I’d have the guts to tell him.  

Things got better after that.  Snape still despised us - me especially, for good reason - but I began to avoid him.  I couldn’t entirely, but sometimes I could get away with not making fun of him because James figured I felt guilty.

Then came the madness.  Voldemort’s madness. Snape was a Death Eater.  That was like a crucio, like a constant, tearing wound.  I blamed myself. How could Snape ever feel comfortable enough to join our side when most of the good guys had tormented him his whole life?

I felt like I was a weakness to the Order sometimes - if faced with Severus, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fight him.  He was tied into too much of my past, my pain, my insecurities and regrets.

Then - Halloween.  I lost everything. My friends, your parents.  My freedom. I won’t bore you with the experiences of that horrid place.  It’s not something I would want you to bear.

But as you can imagine, there isn’t much to do in Azkaban but think.  Dwelling on the past, on mistakes. Everything I’d done, every choice I’d made. I made many a promise to myself, things I swore to do if I ever broke free.  Find you, find Remus.

I swore that if I ever made it out, I would find Severus, if he were still alive, and I would apologize for everything.  I would make it up to him somehow.

You were there when the fatal reunion happened.  I'd had all these plans, all these things I’d wanted to say, to make up for.  All of them flew out the window the moment our eyes met.

Twelve years had matured him better than me.  Gone was the lanky, shy youth I had pined for.  A man had taken his place, swathed in shadow and darkness, eyes hard as diamond and filled with more hate than I had ever seen.  He’d grown taller than me, and even more murderous - I appreciated all but the last. If I thought I’d wanted him before, it was nothing to that moment.  Dreams couldn’t compete.

But one look at those violent eyes made me realize my folly, my foolishness. How could I apologize?  What right did I have to try and easy my own suffering? Snape had every right to loathe the very sight of me.  What I had done could never be forgiven - and wouldn’t be.

The only way to attempt to correct years of mistakes was to give Snape the satisfaction of revenge.  To continue our war until he won. And so I fell back into that role from years before - gave Snape every reason to hate me, though I know Remus thinks it foolish.  He tells me Snape would understand. That there might be a chance. A chance of what? That he won’t curse me where I stand? No.

So things have gone.  Repressing my secrets, swapping one pain for another.  Every time I meet him, each time we trade verbal blows, it hurts a little more; the pain I feel, I channel it into our fights, to try and make the hate seem true.  You don’t know how glad I am that Severus doesn’t come to Grimmauld Place more often. It would tear me to pieces.

Now, we come to yesterday.  Bloody disaster - and what I had hoped would happen one day.  I know that likely confuses you, but if I can explain.

The hatred, the rage, I save for myself, are greater than any of the hate I have for any death eater, or even Voldemort.  

Don’t give me that look.  Harry… what have I to be proud of?  All my life can be summed up in a grand series of accidents and fatal mistakes, which led to people I loved getting hurt, getting killed.  I allowed and even cooperated with belittling and humiliating the first person I ever felt attracted to. A man I could have loved.  I convinced James and Lily to change their secret keeper, and got them killed. Then, when I should have thought of you, I ran off for vengeance and got thrown in Azkaban.  Just when you needed your godfather most.

Now, I’m trapped in this house, no use to anyone, other than as a punching bag for Severus.

Sorry, I just… anyway.  Yesterday. It was all just - a bit much for the moment.  And in my weakness and my anger, I took to an old habit I should have long recovered from.  In the midst of all my bitterness, I wanted to lash out. Needed to throw my hate at something, anything; and who better than me?  I’m the one who deserves it.

That’s how you came to find me in such a disgraceful state.  I never meant for you to see that, Harry, I wasn’t thinking and I’m - I’m so sorry.

Don't look so guilty.  I’m glad you went and found Severus.  He’s a talented healer, as I’ve said, talented at everything.  He would know what to do. How could you have thought, in your concern of me, of what Severus would do?  He was well within his rights to tell everyone. Yes, it was mortifying and shameful - though not as much has being hung upside down and stripped in front of a crowd of spiteful onlookers, just a boy.  Snape’s sharp distrust against my selfish, melodramatic cry for attention hurt but that was deserved - and I’m sure it hurt much less than being ridiculed every day of your life.

Do you see what I was doing, Harry?  How I was attempting to turn our ‘war’ to Severus’ favor?  I didn’t plan yesterday, but I’d been hoping for something like that to happen.  I wanted Snape to get his revenge - to place myself in such a humiliating, destructive scenario that it might please him, that he might feel avenged.

I’m so sorry Harry.  I’m a failure. A horrible godfather and a horrible person.  I won’t ask you to forgive me because I don’t deserve it. I only ask that you don’t repeat my mistakes.  

You’ve seen what hating Severus has done to me; don’t let it happen to you.  Don't let yourself be twisted by shame and hate into something you're not.  Don't be so ashamed of who you are that you become embittered by it.  Don’t let fear and anger keep you from loving whoever it is you love. It might be frightening to say it aloud, but better a moment of embarrassment than a lifetime of regret.  

Thank you for listening Harry.  I hope you take my advice. There’s still plenty of hope for you, and… that Malfoy you care for.  Perhaps even hope that this venture may not end in disaster. I’m so sorry for adding to your already heavy burdens.  No matter what happens now… I’m so sorry.

 

* * *

 

He lifted his head from the pensive with a stagger, contemplation in his dark eyes - a blend of apprehension, surprise, skepticism.

Those confused eyes turned to him.

“And what, exactly, do you expect to come of showing me this?”

Harry smiled benignly and tried to keep from sounding too happy.  “I think you’ll figure it out.”

The eyes narrowed.  “This could easily be a prank.”

The boy turned to the shelf of potions nearby.  “Only one way to find out.”

 

* * *

 

Remus could still smell the blood, and it hurt him like he’d been the one slashing his own arms.

Protective, almost bestial anger rose to the surface, swimming underneath.  Sirius was his closest friend, and was still being tormented by loneliness and guilt.  ‘And I could do nothing,’ He grimaced, gripping his tea tightly, a quiet wolfish growl escaping his throat.

A small hand took hold of his shoulder, and he turned expecting to see Tonks.  Instead a shorter boyish figure stood at his side. “You want to help Sirius.” It was a statement because of course he wanted to help him, there was no question.  A hybrid of a smile and a smirk appeared on Harry’s face - confident and daring. Harry was planning something. Remus knew because James had always looked just like that right before a daring escapade.  Remus set down his tea.

“How can I help?”

 

* * *

 

Grimmauld Place had been rather morose ever since the painful reveal of Sirius’s injuries.  Despite the fact that it was Winter Break, despite Christmas being on the way, the House was decidedly lacking in cheer - more so than usual.

Sirius blamed himself - when didn’t he? - for destroying the festive mood.  He gripped his lower arm painfully tight, ignoring how his wounds burned in outrage.

Suddenly a hand gripped his arm and removed his hold.  Sirius avoided Remus’ eyes- the grey sleeved arm could belong to no one else - but the werewolf’s other hand lifted his chin.  

There was anger in the taller man’s eyes - a look of, “no more of that”, before Lupin nodded towards the kitchen and tugged on his arm.

“Come on.  I think it’s time we had a chat.”

Sirius didn’t fight - he didn’t really feel like it and he knew it would do no good.   He sat at the table, slumped and defeated, watching Remus preparing the tea.   “I don’t want any.”  Sirius mumbled, as it was placed before him.  ‘Gods I sound like a petulant child’.

“I insist.”  Remus said kindly, but there was a tone in it that warned against defying him.  Sighing, Sirius put his hands around the cup, but didn’t lift it.   They didn’t speak immediately.  Remus was staring so intently, Sirius began to look away  when -   “Was that the first time?”

Sirius paused, eyes downcast.  “You mean, since school?” He stared into the placid surface of his drink.  “Yeah.”

It was the wolf’s turn to sigh despondently.  “Just drink the tea.”

Sirius knew better than to argue the point.  He’d already disappointed his best friend, he couldn't bear to do more.  The tea was chamomile - his favorite.   ‘Even after all I’ve put him through, he’s still thinking of me, and here I am feeling sorry for - ‘

“Was that the first time?”

Before Sirius could think to wonder why he was being repetitive, he opened his mouth.  “I thought about it but I’ve really been fighting not to.” Wide eyes snapped to the tea and then he set it down like it was on fire.  “What the fuck, Remus?”

His shout was loud enough to be heard throughout the house, but Remus appeared unfazed.

“I’m worried about you, Sirius,” The man admitted.  “And I think it’s about time you faced some things.  You’re not helping yourself by holding on to all of this guilt.”

Beyond angry, and feeling more than a little vulnerable, Sirius threw his chair back and stood.  “What do you expect me to do? Change the past? Ignore the things I’ve done - I’ve caused?”

“No, but I think you take the blame for things that weren’t your fault.”

“Like what?”  He spat.

“Like Lily and James’ deaths.”  Those words dimmed Sirius’ anger like water on a flame.  Remus stood, moving around the table towards him. He didn’t speak until they were side by side.  “That was not your fault.”

“Remus -”

But the wolf shook his head.  “We all trusted Pettigrew. And you were acting in their best interests.”  A hand sat on his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known.”

Breathing hard, Sirius bit his lip.  “Remus - I just -” The hands moved to grip his upper arms supportively.  “He was supposed to protect them.”

“You tried - we all tried- but we were, and are, fighting an impossibly powerful man.  You can’t let their deaths weigh on your life. They wouldn’t want it.”

Sirius frowned, taken aback by the comfort  coming from Remus.  The wolf had been his confidante in the past, but he’d never been so outspoken about it.

“Yes, well,’ He gulped, “I still have plenty to feel bad about.”

“Azkaban?”  Remus asked, then slowly shook his head.  “I can’t say that, in your position, I wouldn’t of been so blinded by rage and done the same thing.  But you shouldn’t have gone after Pettigrew- you should have come to me.” The man smiled somberly. “I don’t know what we could have done but perhaps something could have been different.”

“I never think of what I’m doing before I do it!”  Sirius turned away, pulling out of Remus’ hold. “If I hadn’t run off, then Harry might’ve been raised with a family that loved him instead of those - bastards!”

“I’m as much to blame as you are, Sirius!”  The two ignored the crowd of Weasleys - and honorary Weasleys - who had heard the noise and come down to investigate.  “Did I seek Harry out? You can’t heap all this onto yourself!”

The darker haired man appeared to be searching for some kind of comeback, but Lupin wouldn’t let him think.   “Well, come on, what else are you foolishly blaming yourself for?”  Remus crossed his arms.

“Regulus.”

The hardness in his eyes softened.  “There’s nothing you could have done, Sirius.”

“I could have taken him with me.” He replied, quietly, without passion.  “I didn’t have to leave him behind.”

“Can you really say he would have come with you?”  Remus asked in a gentle tone. “He wasn’t as rebellious, or, well, brave as you were.  He made his choices, and you made yours. You can’t control free will.”

“What about Snape’s choices?”  Sirius clenched his fists and glowered at his best friend.  The tension in the room had multiplied threefold, and Remus knew he treaded on delicate ground.  “Tell me it’s not my fault.”

“It’s not your - “

“You know it bloody well is!”  

“Sirius!”  Lupin heaved a sigh.  “Don’t be stupid enough to think that your actions alone could have that much of an effect on anyone, because I can tell you it was a collaborative effort!”  Color finally peaked in his cheeks. “You can’t take all the blame. You weren’t the only one that hurt him. James did, I did, even Lily, and I’m sure he had his own problems besides.  Not to mention he was damned talented with the dark arts.” Panting from exertion, Remus turned away a put a hand over his face.

Sirius was strangely distraught, confused, a brokenness there that did not belong in his confident face.  “Remus…” He whispered tiredly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

“Don’t you see?”  He turned back. “I’m telling you, you have less to be sorry for than you believe.  Seriously, Sirius -”

Two quiet voices from the stairwell said as one, “Say that three times fast.”   The twins were ignored.  Sirius and Remus could hardly tell anyone else was in the house with them.

“ - you are a more empathetic person than you give yourself credit for.  All these horrid things happen to those you love and you find a way to handle the sadness by turning it inward, turning it to hatred, and anger.  Underneath that is a layer of aches you don’t want to face and it’s killing you. Fears you never let go of. I think -” Moony looked up, and Sirius pointedly avoided his gaze.  “There are hurts from your youth you haven’t faced, things Azkaban turned sour, things you haven’t been able to come to terms with.”

Sirius was gasping for breath, hands on the table gripping it tight.  The scrape of wood broke the silence when Remus tried to pull Sirius into a hug and the man backed away, knocking at the table.   “It’s not true.”  He muttered.

“Sirius -”

“It’s not true!”  

“If it is not true,” Remus began slowly, strangely.  “Then answer one question for me.” Nervous Sirius hesitantly met his gaze.  “Tell me: If Severus approached you and forgave you for the past, if you could finally see eye to eye and move forward - would you tell him how you feel?”

The answer didn’t come verbally at first, but it was clear to everyone what the answer would be.  The drop of his eyebrows, the darkening of his eyes, the crinkle of lines on his forehead. Only after a pause of somber realization did the man with slumped shoulders and a wounded heart tell the truth.   “No.  I’d never tell him.”  He whispered harshly. “Never.”  He licked dry lips and looked away.  “Damn this veritaserum! No more Remus!”

“Why not, Sirius?”  He ignored the statement.  “Why torment yourself even in idle fantasies of futures that could be?  Why keep it secret even then? Don’t you love him?”

Silence descended.  

“I could.  Oh… I could.”  Sighing, he whispers, shoulders slumped.  “There’s so much I don’t know about him.  Every time I look at him, I wonder what it would be like to see him everyday.  Whenever I see you take those potions he makes, or watch him stride into the house to talk to the Order… I wonder.  No, I don’t love him… but given the chance,... I could.”

“But I don’t deserve that chance.”  He says, throwing his hands up, gesturing wildly.  “Look at me! Skin and bones and mentally unstable! No job, no freedom, locked in this house day and night!  Don’t you remember, Remus?” He strode forward. “I’m the one who made his school years hell! The one who almost got him, and you, killed!  I am a foolish, stubborn, selfish man, and everything else Snape says! I tormented him all to keep from having anyone realize that shameful secret that I  _ could  _ love him.  That I’m  _ bent _ .”  Exhausted, his shoulders slump.  “So, no, Remus. I will never tell him.”

“And yet…” A dark drawl from behind Sirius stiffened every muscle in the man’s body.  “You already have.”

Slowly, tentatively, and with growing horror, Sirius turned and the figure came into view - black robes, pale hands, smooth lilting voice.  It could be no other. Terrified, Sirius refused to lift his head and see the disgust, the refusal on his face. Trembling, eyes wide, he began to back away - when Remus touched his shoulder he spun out of reach.

“Don’t touch me.”  He tried to sound angry and bitter, but his voice cracked and wavered, falling low.

Without a word, Remus turned and left, and the Weasleys seemed to follow suit.  Once the thunder on the stairs died down, Sirius could hear the thunder in his chest, thumping in his ears.   Shoulders slumped and shaking, he waited for the inevitable curse, the sharp tongue to attack.  But nothing occurred. Had Snape left? Too sickened to even take advantage of his weakness? Feeling slightly more daring, Sirius turned to see if the man was gone - as soon as black boots came into view, his head snapped back down.

A sardonic chuckle.  “I never thought I would see a Gryffindor so terrified.”  As if to prove his point, Sirius jumped when he heard the man’s footsteps approaching behind him.

“Always a first for everything.”  He mumbled weakly. “Like a Slytherin being nice.”  The old routine was easy to fall into.

“Is that what I’m being?”  The steps came closer.

Sirius bit his lips and shut his eyes tight.  “Not for long I’m sure.” He tried and failed to calm his heart.  A hand came to his shoulder, coaxing motion, and he was helpless to fight it.  When he’d turned fully, he focused his gaze on Snape’s boots.

“Black,” Somehow his name, always laced with irritation and anger, seemed ore like a plea now.  “Why?”

“Why, what?  Why didn't I say anything?"  He huffs.  "When, exactly, should I have spoken up?”  Sirius scoffed. “My family had me convinced it was criminal, along with most everything else.  I’d of been - well, all those terrible things they threatened to do, they’d have done much sooner.  Wouldn’t have bothered burning my face off the wall, they’d have killed me. And -” Chuckling without humor, he frowned.  “You know how kids are. People only thought you were queer and we tore you to shreds. If they’d known…” He forces himself to look up.  “I was a coward. And I wanted to hate you for revealing to me what I was. But I never could.”

“I didn’t think I deserved you anyway.  Now, I know don’t.”

The hand on his shoulder shifts towards his neck.  “Scared?” Snape asked. His voice was strangely soft.  “You’re trembling.”  A gentle, smooth hand turned his chin upwards, and for the first time Sirius saw his face: brow furrowed, lips parted and soft, his eyes full of emotions Sirius had never seen in them.  “Let me assuage you.”

As a pair of tender lips took his, Sirius recognized the emotion: a young and budding form of love, not unlike the feelings brimming over in his own heart.

 


End file.
